


Into Her Parlour

by seekeronthepath



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, M/M, Spiders, unfinished work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekeronthepath/pseuds/seekeronthepath
Summary: Clint, lost in a thunderstorm, finds himself in the Black Widow's house------“O no, no,” said the little fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed.”





	

Clint was a dumbass. No-one who knew him would be surprised by this. But right now, looking around the entryway of the red-painted house he had stumbled into and finally recognising it from the rumors he’d heard in town, he felt like even more of a dumbass. “Great,” he muttered, looking at the cobweb-themed decorations as he wrung out his shirt on the tile floor. “Of all the shelters from the storm, I found the Black Widow’s house.” Rumor was, no one who went there ever came back. Fuck. Phil was gonna kill him if he got out of this.

“Is that what they call me now?” came a melodious voice from the top of the stairs that dominated the entryway. Clint looked up, and stared. The ‘Black Widow’ had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Hair and lips red as a rose (or blood, the back of Clint’s mind suggested grimly), leaf-green eyes, soft, pale skin, and a figure hinted to be extraordinary by the mist-grey…garment she was wearing.

Clint realised he was staring and bowed, not sure why he was falling back on showmanship from his circus days. “That I heard, ma’am, yes,” he admitted. “My apologies for just coming on in, but the storm outside is brutal and I didn’t think anyone was home.”

She raised one delicate eyebrow at him. “And if no-one had _been_ home, what would you have done?”

“Hung up my clothes to dry in the bathroom and slept on the couch,” Clint replied instantly. “Left some cash to cover any food I ate, and made as little mess as I could.”

Her expression barely changed, but he thought he saw a hint of approval in it. “Good,” she said, descending the stairs. “You may call me Natalia.”

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you,” Clint said, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m Clint. Barton. Well, Barton-Coulson.” They’d only been married a couple of months, and he wasn’t used to introducing himself by his new name.

“Well, Clint Barton-Coulson,” Natalia replied, her hips swaying as she approached, “now that you know the house _is_ occupied…what will you do?”

“Uh…” Clint knew he was staring again, but hell, out of him and Phil, he was _not_ the suave one, and Natalia was kind of…awe-inspiring. “Hope you don’t kick me out before the rain stops?”

“The storm will not end until the morning,” she said, with a creepy kind of certainty. “You are welcome to stay the night.”

Clint bit his lip. “Awesome,” he replied. Hopefully nothing terrible would happen? Phil would kill him if he got killed doing this. “Is there, uh… Can I borrow something to wear while my clothes dry?” At a certain point, you got used to the clammy coldness, but it still wasn’t pleasant.

Natalia gave his naked torso a rather obvious once-over, and raised her eyebrows. “And spoil the view? If you insist.”

Clint fidgeted uncomfortably. “I’m a married man, Natalia,” he demurred, kind of awkwardly. “And my husband doesn’t know I’m here. Another time, maybe.”

Something about that surprised her, Clint thought, though it was hard to tell. She was the most inscrutable person he’d ever met, and considering Phil’s friends, that was saying something. She gave him a long look, then turned her gaze to the ceiling, and raised one elegant hand. “Little sister,” she called.

Clint watched with horrified fascination as a mid-sized spider, about as big as a quarter, crossed the ceiling and descended on a silken thread to land on Natalia’s hand. She smiled at it and brought it down to eye level, whispering something he couldn’t quite hear.

“Ekaterina will lead you to a guest room,” she told Clint. “There will be clothes for you there. The bathroom is off the same hall, and the door will be open.”

Clint nodded, deeply unsettled by the whole thing. “I…okay. I just follow the spider?”

“You do,” Natalia said, and they watched the spider descend on a silken thread from her fingers to the floor. “A word of warning. Do not touch my sisters, and they will not touch you. And do not open any doors that are closed.”

“Well,” Clint said when he reached ‘his’ room. “That was creepy as fuck.” He reached into his back pocket for his phone and swore. “No signal. Of fucking course.” Phil was gonna kill him.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any more than this, except some vague ideas, but I like what I've written so far and I thought I'd put it out there in case anyone else wanted to play with the concept. Suggestions welcome!


End file.
